The Petals that Fall: Under Skies of Trees
by Meyers Marie
Summary: A Petals that Fall fiction. Bonus one-shot. Bash's feelings continue to grow towards Mary. When she helps him see he has freedom, he realizes that freedom would be better if they could have it together. A look further at Mary and Bash's childhood, as well as Bash's POV from chapter two. {Also published as chapter 26 of The Petals that Fall - will be taken down soon}


Title: _The Petals that Fall_: Under Skies of Trees

Summary: _A Petals that Fall_ fiction. Bonus one-shot. Bash's feelings continue to grow towards Mary. When she helps him see he has freedom, he realizes that freedom would be better if they could have it together. A look further at Mary and Bash's childhood, as well as Bash's POV from chapter two.

Characters: [Sebastian P.], [Mary S.]

Genre: Friendship, Romance

Words: 3,635

Disclaimer/Letter from the Author: This is a bonus one-shot and fic for _The Petals that Fall_. It goes into more depth in regards to Mary and Bash's relationship, as briefly hinted at throughout the story and chapter twenty-five. It's set after the cheek kiss mentioned by Mary and Bash in chapter two, when she came to see him, a bit drunk after drinking with Tomas. It also has Bash's point-of-view during their conversation of their childhood.

I meant to publish this as a separate story, a one shot on its own, but FF won't let me use this account to post new stories, and it's pissing me the hell off. So fraries, sorry about this. Mashers, enjoy.

UPDATE: Surprise. It's its own story.

_Reign_ is not mine. However, _The Petals that Fall_ and all Marie Meyers written, associated fictions are. Please ask before any reuse or reprint of any part of this fanfiction.

Copyright The Petals that Fall. Marie Meyers. 2013-2015. All Rights Reserved.

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><p><span>Under Skies of Trees<span>

It is a warm day, for Autumn. Or maybe that is because Mary Stuart - little, troublesome Queen of Scotland - is walking by his side.

"I didn't think you'd come back."

"Really?"

Mary gives him a look of doubt and Sebastian de Poitiers blinks and bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, is that so hard to believe?" he asks dryly.

"You know I was going to show. You're just saying that because you're fishing for things."

"What!"

"Just be happy that I came. You don't have to lie about it. I like being your friend, too."

"Idiot," Bash tells her, walking ahead. "That's not it."

He hears a smile in Mary's voice, "Okay."

Truth is, she is right. He just wants to hear her say how much she enjoys his company. He has never had a friend before. He has never had a friend like Mary before. She makes his heart pound in his chest and he enjoys himself when he is with her.

"So what do you want to do today?" Bash asks her as they walk to the tree clearing. He takes them to their tree - _he's named it as such for it is the tree Mary hides behind when he plays with her, it is the tree which under her small lips pressed against his cheek; it is the tree by which he's seen her sulk and smile, and it is the tree by which he has done all these things as well_ - plants his feet firmly at the trunk, bends his knees, and jumps; he grabs the tree branch effortlessly and pulls himself up, and when he is securely tucked in the aclove of the tree's trunk, he reaches out a hand and waits for Mary's fingers to slide secure against his. Bash pulls her up, and together they sit in the tree.

She's panting slightly - always so unfit - but he waits for her to labored breaths to slow. When they do, she smiles bright, eyes wide on his, and Bash reads the excitement on her features, and knows her answer.

"Your adventures!" She exclaims with glee, and Bash chuckles. He tells her a new story, this one of the château his mother has in Paris, and how he lived there four months and around the time of his sixth birthday, and about the wild turkeys he'd rustle up and take all over their Province. He watches how she watches him, eyes widening at some parts, lips curving into a smile at others.

"Wow," she says, later, after all the stories, after laughing with him and playing with him. Her head is resting on his shoulder and Bash can feel strands of her hair against the cheek. She smells sweet, like vanilla and caramel, and Bash likes the scent, so he inhales deeply, and breathes her in. "Your life is so wondrous, Bash. So many adventures. So much time to explore the world and see many interesting things."

They are watching the clouds. Bash shifts his gaze from the sky to her silhouette, then back to the sky again before speaking.

"There's nothing wondrous about it," he whispers bitterly. "I'm a Bastard. That's why I always end up shuffled away. I'm an unsightly bastard."

"Why do you call yourself that? Why do you say that? I don't think you understand how beautiful your life is."

"You're the one who doesn't understand - "

"You are so _free_, Bash. So wondrously free to have any life or adventure you please. You can slay any dragon. Find any buried treasure. You can travel anywhere in this world and sail every sea. You can be anyone you want. You can be a new person every day, if that's how you wish it."

"I - "

"I'm Mary, Queen of Scotland. I am a ruler. That's all I am, all I can dream of being. That's who I am now. That's who I'll be when I grow up. You can be anyone you want. You have the freedom everyone with title will never have. Don't you see how glorious that is? The possibilities are so endless for you."

Bash listens intently, her words turning in his head as he suddenly understands the meaning.

"I'm free," he echoes, the words strangely warming to his ears.

Bash knows she's smiling when she speaks, "You're the freest boy at Court."

_I'm free._ The warmth within him is one he's never felt before. Only feels with her, it seems. He feels his cheeks warm.

"You know, Mary - "

"Hmm?" She's staring at the clouds. At the sound of his voice she turns to him, brown eyes bright and big and -

"Ah..." Bash stumbles. Averts his eyes quickly. "I - we can - you can be free, too. Free like how I am," he says quietly.

He feels Mary lean in close and he smells her, sweet and flowery. He breathes in deeply. Holds his breath. Swallows her scent.

"How?" she asks, and Bash can hear the excitement in her voice. The wonder. He swallows thickly.

"You can stay with me," he mumbles, "then we can be free together for the rest of our lives."

There is a silence. Then, "Look at me, Bash."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to," he says, embarrassed.

'Well...is this our secret? Can Francis also be free with us?"

"I -" He starts to say he doesn't care, but stops. He does want it to be their secret, in the same way the tree is theirs, in the same way she is his only friend.

But, he can't say that. He doesn't even know what it is he wants to say. Doesn't know why it matters. Can't face her questioning his reply, because he doesn't have any answers.

Suddenly very irate, Bash just shrugs. "It's whatever."

"Bash?"

He doesn't any anything, just looks down towards the ground.

"Are you mad?"

"I said it's whatever!" His voice is coarse, cracking on the words. He flushes at the obvious signs of his hurt. "Just come off it!" Bash feels Mary tense beside him, and it makes him feel even worse. He readies himself to climb down from the tree, but as he begins scooting away, Mary grabs his arm and hugs it.

"Get off of me, Mary."

"It can be our secret if you want! I'm sorry," she says sadly. "Don't leave me now. I won't be able to see you until tomorrow if you go back to Nostradamus' room. Bash, don't leave me. I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean to make you sad. I only thought you'd want Francis to be free, too, because he's your brother."

Her voice is soft and frantic, her body is pressed tight against his arm, and again Bash feels ashamed for making her upset. She always does that, makes him question himself. He wonders why he always feels so bad when she is sad.

"I _do_ want him to be free," Bash starts in earnest. "I just - " he lets the sentence trail off and hang in the air around them, not knowing how to continue it.

"Just what?"

"I don't know," he admits.

"Does it make you sad that I asked if Francis could know?"

"I - I don't know."

"You're lying to me again. Don't keep this from me. You promised."

Bash sighs in resignation. He doesn't know why telling her this stuff is so dang hard.

"You just...always talk about Francis." Wait, no. That isn't what he means to say. "You like him more than me, and you always talk about him more. He always gets to see you, and I don't." That isn't right, either. "And you're my only friend, and I can't even see you whenever I want to. I _always_ want to see you, but I'm always in that stupid room, and then when I'm not - you're here with me talking to me about _Francis_, and - " He should shut up. He really should shut up. "He's your favorite and you don't want to be free with _me_, just with him, and it isn't fair, because I want you to be free with me. I'm not saying that like I don't want Francis to know freedom, I just - this is - I want this to be _our_ secret, and you want to share it with Francis."

It all comes blurting out, somehow, and it leaves Bash's face hot. He doesn't mean to say any of that. He has, however, and now what is he supposed to do? And why isn't she saying anything?

Mary is silent for a long time. But she is still tightly holding on to him, trying to keep him there with her.

"Oh, Bash -" Mary says sadly. "Will you look at me? None of that is right. I'm so sorry I made you feel like this. I'm such a bad friend. Bash, look at me, please. I'm sorry. It really isn't like that."

Bash doesn't want to look at her. But he wants to know what it is like. "What is it like?" he mumbles softly, terrified to know the answer.

"Francis is going to be my husband one day. I have to like him more, and I have to think about him all the time, just like he has to think about me all the time. I _really_ want us to be like my mother and father," she whispers, "I want us to be _in love_, whatever that means. And...I like playing with Francis. He's gotten nicer to me, and I want him to be free too because we're going to be married...but - " she pauses. "Before, when he was being mean...I wanted _you_ to marry me."

The words make Bash sharply turn his head, make his heart beat so fast it hurts. He stares at her, and sees she isn't looking at him anymore. Her arm slackens its hold on him, almost as if she expects him to flee.

"I mean, I _do_ want to marry Francis," she stammers, "but -"

"But _what?_" He urges.

"But I - I think that if I could marry you, I'd like that very much. And that it'd be okay. I think I'd marry you both if I could, because you are both very special to me. I...I like Francis a lot, but I - "

"_But you what?_" Why is he urging her so desperately?

"I think you might be my _favorite_. I think, I like you a lot, too." She turns her face away further, until her hair is shielding her from his view.

"Like how you like Francis?" Bash whispers.

Mary shrugs. "I don't know. I think about you a lot. I always want to see you. Sometimes I don't even want to see Francis, because I want to see you instead. And I - " Mary stops.

"What, Mary?"

"No, I don't want to say it."

Bash is irate again. "You can't do that. Don't hide things from me. You told me not to hide things from you." The words are commanding, and Bash is surprised. He's never had that tone before.

"Fine." Her voice is small. "I think about the time I - kissed you on the cheek a lot."

Bash sucks in a breath.

"I mean, I've kissed Francis' cheek -"

For some reason, Bash feels uncomfortable knowing that.

"- but I think about when I kissed _your_ cheek."

"How often?" he asks.

"I can't say for sure."

"Is it a lot?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

"It feels weird to answer that."

"So you did."

"Am I a Gross-O?"

"I don't think so," Bash says. "I liked it, too."

That seems to comfort Mary a little. "Really?"

"Yeah. I -" he stutters, his skin warm. "Do you ever think about doing it again?"

Mary nods. Bash can feel his heart in his throat.

"It isn't true the things you said, Bash. I wouldn't want a world where we couldn't be friends," she whispers.

"I wouldn't want one, either."

"Do you want it to be our secret still?" she asks him. She finally looks at him. Her face is red, eyes brown and - _beautiful_. "We can be free together, if you want. Just the two of us."

Bash sighs, "But if you want Francis to be free with us - "

"But if you don't want him to be, he doesn't have to be. You and I can have our freedom together and...Francis and I can have a freedom together - "

"I only want you to have a freedom with me. Not Francis."

Mary pauses.

"Okay."

Bash blinked. "Really?" he says, "But - "

"You're my first friend I made here. You're _special_," Mary says quietly. "I'll do whatever you want, for the rest of my life, Bash, if it means you'll be happy with me. I don't want you sad anymore."

Bash looks at his hands. "You make me happy already." When he glances at her face again, she is smiling. Bash feels like he is being blinded by the radiance of that smile. The corners of her mouth upturned, her lips press together gleefully -

With his focus on her lips, his cheek tingles. A vision of his mother and father pressing their lips to one another's flashes through his mind and he blushes furiously.

"Bash? Are you okay? Your face is really red."

"No, I'm not, I -" _I can't possibly tell her what I thought! No way. No way._

He really wants a kiss from her again. And he doesn't know why.

"What?" Her voice startles him, and blinking out of his thoughts, he sees her face as red as a beet.

"What is it?"

"You spoke out loud...you want a kiss from me?"

Bash feels like fleeing. But for some reason, her knowing feels _good_. "I...am _I_ a Gross-O?" He asks quietly, a bit ashamed and very confused.

Mary is silent for a moment. Then she shakes her head, and bends forward.

Bash's body trembles as he waits to feel her lips on his skin, but he recoils when he realizes she is going for his cheek again. "Not there!" he says.

Mary stops, lips inches from his face. "Why?"

"Because - you kissed Francis on his cheek."

Mary blinks. "Oh...so then, where?"

He thinks of the image in his head, and shrugs.

"Have you kissed Francis'..."

"His what?"

"Lips?"

Mary gasps. "No! That'd be so embarrassing. We aren't married yet! It's indecent." Then, "Did you want me to - ?"

Bash shakes his head profusely. Then stops, shrugs, and nods hesitantly. "I see my mother and father do it. My mother kisses my lips."

"My mother kisses mine," Mary quips, "but I think that's okay, somehow. But I think that only married people do it when there's a boy and girl involved."

"My father is married to the Queen," says Bash.

"Oh, I forgot."

They sit there in an awkward silence.

"I guess...maybe...to seal our promise of being free together...we could...?"

Mary's voice is a whisper. Bash nods slowly.

"It's just to make the promise true," he says shakily.

"Then, um, close your eyes."

He doesn't want to. "I don't wanna."

"Bash!" Mary says, with irritation. "Close your eyes, please? This feels weird, somehow, if your eyes are open."

He huffs. But closes his eyes.

Her lips are on his for only a second, but to Bash it feels like a lifetime. Warm, just like the first time, and soft. But this time, he feels velvet. This time, the butterflies in his stomach are out of control. Mary starts pulling away, and Bash - feeling the moment is ending too soon - moves with her, puckering his own lips and kissing her back softly.

They part, and sit there in silence again.

"That's our promise," Mary whispers after a moment. "For our secret, I mean."

"Yeah. Our promise." At first, he thinks of asking why she needs to explain what the promise is for, but something inside him tells him the clarification is necessary.

§

"Still kissing boys under canopies."

"I have yet to kiss any other boy under a sky of trees." Her voice is matter of fact, and Bash feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You remembered...?" Mary asks him.

Bash slides his gaze over her frame. _Does he remember? How can he not?_ "I never forgot. It's not everyday I get a gentle kiss from a wild girl." He is teasing her, he knows, but he means the words with only the most earnest level of fondness. He hears Mary scoff.

"It was a cheek kiss. And I was not wild," she argues, and Bash finds himself laughing at her ridiculous reply. She had been wild. Wild and reckless and stubborn, from the first moment they met. And now still, he is sure. She just hides it better.

"Of course you were, Mary!" He says, "Always running off. Never staying still. Very impatient towards everything." He pauses, then adds tenderly, "In fact, I think you loved those trees most out of any other place in the castle."

"It reminded me of home. And I could say the same of you, Sebastian." Her voice is teasing, and he feels his heart beat speed, as he feels himself slip back into their memories.

"It was a sanctuary," Bash tells her. "One where there were always stories to share." He glances at her face, hidden by her hair. She'd done that often, when she had been with him when they were children. He always wanted to reach out and push her hair back, and gaze at her properly. He liked looking at her. Always thought she looked so...well, Mary.

"I've grown up since then."

"You have. But you're still just as wild." Bash is lost in a sudden memory. Her lips on his cheek. Her lips on his own. He had forgotten that kiss, and it seems she had as well, but he remembers then, staring into her brown eyes. Wondering how much she's remembered, he leans in. "Do you still give gentle pecks, Mary...?" He trails off, voice soft, eyes flickering towards her lips just a moment, before being captured by her stare. He sees various emotions there. He wonders what they are. Does she remember after all?

"You made me wild. You and your tales of wonder. You made me this way." The words are sudden, and Bash hears her gasp as they flow free. His heart skips, and he inhales a shuddering breath, suddenly desperate for her to remember, needing her to do so, if only so that he has reason to close the distance between them.

"I take great pleasure in it," he says softly as he gazes at her, so enchanted by Mary; so ensnared. Just like then, when he'd softly placed a kiss of promise on her lips.

* * *

><p>AEN: I know I recently finished TPTF, but I have so many stories on my mind. I really love Bash and Mary together.<p>

I'm starting a forum on [FF] for The Petals that Fall. There you'll be able to hold discussions and find out news for the series. I know some of you are dying to know what happens next, but it's a surprise ;). Let me work my magic, and when The Roses that Wither begins, you'll all be the first to know! Oops, that was a spoiler, wasn't it?

Until the forum is up, follow me on Twitter meyermariea and on Tumblr jusslex . tumblr . com. There you'll be able to keep up with TPTF news, forum updates, and news of other fictions.

Also, because I left TPTF's ending so questioning, I'll be holding a contest soon, so look out for that. The winner will get their questions answered on what's to come with TPTF, and the pairings within!

So follow me on Twitter and Tumblr and be on the look out.

And remember to review! (;

NOTE: Forum is now up. Follow it, for info on TPTF short stories and the second installation. Remember to follow my Tumblr and Twitter.

Because I can't make new stories, I've made a secondary account. The link is, /~MeyersMarie

If I find a way to upload this story there, then it definitely will be a story all its own.

UPDATE: Not to make this a super long author's end note...but surprise! It's a story all its own. Instead, if you haven't read TPTF yet, and are slightly confused but very intrigued, you can find a link to the story on my profile page, or go to my primary account, / ~MarieMeyers. As always, remember the URL has no spaces.

Anyway, thanks for reading! More Mash and Frary love to come!

Probably, mostly Mash though.

Marie Meyers

PS. Remember to review!


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